The Rules
by Chelles
Summary: Rules are meant to be broken.
1. Rule 1: No touching

A/N: Well, I'm breaking one of my own rules right now – I'm working on two pieces simultaneously. I can't believe I'm doing it, but this idea really wouldn't leave me alone. On the plus side, I think this entire story is pretty much done, so it won't interfere with "Chasing the Rainbow's End" too much.

This is a very different format for me, so any thoughts and advice that you have would be welcome.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story!

I don't own CSI. Anything from seasons 1 – 7 is fair game in this one, so keep that in mind as you read!

* * *

_Rule 1: No touching_

It had been an unwritten rule in their relationship since Sara's first day in Las Vegas. When she arrived at his crime scene, seeing him for the first time in ages, both of them were full of ecstatic smiles and cheerful greetings. They were clearly overjoyed to see each other, but neither moved to give the other the welcoming hug that they both craved. Instead, they buried their feelings in work and friendship.

They both knew, without the words ever being exchanged, that touching would change everything. They didn't know how everything would change, but the fear that it would be for the worse forced them to keep their hands to themselves.

Oh, they had their moments. His hand against her cheek, comforting her. Her hand on his back, thanking him. Their shoulders touching as they looked at evidence. His hand clasped around hers as he walked her to his car to drive her home after she had been pulled over for a DUI. None of these small occasions changed anything, and neither of them stopped to over-analyze what had happened.

Then, a moment changed their lives forever.

They were in Sara's apartment. She was on a chair, curled up into a ball as she told Grissom the terrible truth of her past. Of the abuse her mother had suffered at the hands of her father. Of her mother's final, violent revenge. Of her life in foster care. Of her suffering.

He let her talk, knowing that she needed to say all of this, and, somehow, that he needed to be the one to hear it. But, when her voice died and words failed her, when her hand covered her face and the sobs shook her body, he broke their unspoken rule.

He touched her.

He leaned toward her from his spot on the sofa and grabbed her hand. She didn't raise her eyes to meet his – she couldn't do it, not yet – but she held his hand tightly, as though it would save her from drowning in the horror that surrounded her – had always surrounded her.

He leaned even closer, and spoke for the first time since telling her that no, there is not a murder gene.

"I'm here," he whispered. "I'm here for you. I always will be."

Her fingers moved around his, gripping his hand even tighter. "Thank you."

* * *

"You know, we have to have some rules about this."

"Rules about what?"

Sara rolled her eyes. "Griss, we've been out together five times. For me, it's sort of a record. You're my longest relationship in years."

Grissom smiled. "I think this actually makes you my longest relationship ever," he replied.

"Right. So, since we do work together, and I don't want either of us to lose our jobs, we need rules."

"Such as?"

"We can't touch each other at work."

"Why not?"

She rolled her eyes again. "Look, I know you don't do office politics, but even you have to know that dating your subordinate could cause a problem."

"Fair enough," Grissom said. "No touching at work, then."

"Agreed."

He leaned across the table to touch her cheek. "Thank goodness we're still at dinner. We don't have to be at work for another hour."

Sara giggled and leaned into his touch. "Thank goodness."

* * *

It had sounded so easy when they had agreed to it. But, really, they were hardly dating at all at that point. They hadn't even had their first kiss. How were they to know how much harder it would become with time?

They longer they were together, the more comfortable they became around each other. With this new comfort level came a lowering of the barriers they had constructed. As the barriers lowered, they found themselves constantly wanting to be near each other, constantly fighting the urge to touch each other.

They both broke the rule. Sometimes it was accidental. Sara's fingers often brushed against Grissom's when she took assignment slips from him. His shoulder sometimes brushed hers as they looked at crime scene photos together.

Sometimes it was on purpose. After dating and working together for over two years, it was impossible to think that it wouldn't happen. Sara leaned into him, her chin hovering just above his shoulder, as they looked at a corpse together. Grissom brushed away her tears and put his arm around her as they left the building after a particularly difficult case. On these occasions, they exchanged secretive smiles, but knew that no one had seen them. They were always quite alone in the lab.

Then, they broke the rule while at a crime scene.

Sara had her camera slung over her shoulder as she looked down at the wreckage of the red Mustang. She was frowning slightly when Grissom came up behind her.

"What's wrong?"

"I was just wondering how stupid someone could possibly be to do something like this to such a beautiful car."

Grissom smiled. "Don't over think it, Sara."

"I won't," she promised. "Now, as I am the lead on this case, I think I need to give you some work to do."

"What would you like me to do, my dear?"

"Crime scene photos," she said promptly, turning back to the car.

"All right." He leaned in a bit. "I'm going to have to use your camera. I gave mine to Greg for the day."

"Where's his?"

"Oh, who cares?" he breathed as he took the strap of the camera off her shoulder. His hand trailed down her arm far more than was necessary, eliciting a smile from her.

"Are you trying to get us caught?"

"What? I'm not allowed to touch you?"

"Actually …"

"Right. The rules. Damn them all to hell."

She finally looked up and smiled. "For the love of God, Grissom, just go take the pictures."

He winked. "We'll pick this up again later."

"Yes," she said softly, her voice full of promise, "we certainly will."

* * *

It was a moment of weakness that led to hours of terror. Grissom regretted it for the rest of his life. 


	2. Rule 2: No kissing

A/N: This is a story like none I've ever written before. I hope the format of it is clear after you've read this chapter.

Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_Rule 2: No kissing_

"I had a great time today," Sara said, swinging their joined hands slightly as they walked to her apartment door.

"Me, too," Grissom smiled. "I hadn't been on a picnic in years."

Sara grinned. "Neither had I. I'm so glad you suggested it. You did a great job of packing a lunch, by the way."

"Oh, good," Grissom said, his relief obvious. "I was nervous about it – it's the first time I've cooked for a vegetarian."

"Well, you did a great job," she said again.

"Thanks," Grissom smiled. He paused for a moment, then spoke again. "I have another suggestion, if you'd be willing to come along."

"I'd love to," Sara promised without knowing what he might suggest.

He smiled as they reached her apartment. "How about a trip to an amusement park?"

She raised her eyebrows. "An amusement park?"

"Yes," Grissom grinned. "I've been riding roller coasters alone for years. Would you please ride one with me?"

She grinned. "I'd love to."

"Saturday?"

"Saturday."

"Great." Grissom released her hand and touched her cheek. "I'll see you at work tonight."

"Right," Sara breathed, wondering if this might be the day.

Once again she was disappointed. Grissom leaned in and kissed her cheek.

"Good bye, Sara."

"Bye."

He waited until she had unlocked and opened her door, then, waving cheerfully, turned to walk back to his car. Shaking her head slightly, Sara entered her apartment.

They had been dating for nearly a month, but he had yet to kiss her. Well, that wasn't entirely fair – he had kissed her cheek, her hands … but, not her lips. She was a bit frustrated with the situation. It had become something of an unwritten rule: _no kissing_. At least, not until the time was right. Sara just wished that she knew when that would be.

* * *

Grissom insisted that they ride every roller coaster in the park, and Sara was glad to agree. Amusement parks had not been a part of her childhood; she felt as though she had the chance to rectify that with Grissom as he grabbed her hand and took her from one ride to the next. His child-like glee at being there rubbed off on her; they spent a wonderful day together, acting the part of two children out for the afternoon.

Darkness had fallen when Sara suggested a ride on the ferris wheel. Grissom agreed a bit reluctantly; he clearly was less than impressed with this rather tame ride.

"It's not that I don't like them," he explained to Sara as they stood in line. "It's that they don't give you the rush that a roller coaster does."

"I'm not arguing with that," she replied. "But, we've ridden every roller coaster at least once – some of them twice. I think it's time to try something new. Besides, I want to see the view from the top."

He nodded as they moved forward to climb into a car. "I hope this is all you want it to be."

"Me, too," she smiled.

They settled into the car. Sara reached for his hand as they began to move. He smiled, and laced his fingers through hers. She smiled back.

The stop and go motion of the wheel provided them with conversation for a few minutes as they discussed the people who might be riding along with them. Then, they reached the summit of the ferris wheel and stopped to let more passengers on board.

"Oh!" Sara breathed, looking out at the twinkling lights of Las Vegas splayed out before her. "Look at that, Griss! It's beautiful!"

"Yes, very beautiful," he agreed, looking not at the lights, but at her. "Sara?"

"Hm?"

She turned to look at him, and he caught her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers. Sara drew a breath in quickly, then melted into his kiss.

They broke apart as the ride began to move again and looked at each other. Neither seemed to know what to say.

"Well, I was wrong," Grissom said at last.

"About what?"

"This ride can definitely give you a rush."

Sara giggled and leaned in to kiss him again.

The kiss did not end as the ride continued its jerky progress around, or even as it began to spin in earnest. It was a rather innocent kiss, but it was the best kiss either of them could imagine.

It was during those first kisses that Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle fell in love.

* * *

"I suppose this should go without saying …" Sara began as they walked to her apartment after leaving the amusement park.

Grissom smiled and tightened his grip on her hand. "No kissing at work?"

"No kissing at work."

He smiled again. "Done."

They stopped in front of her door, but Sara made no move to take her keys from her purse. Grissom raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I don't get my good night kiss? We're not at work now, you know."

Grissom smiled. "Good thing."

He put his hands on her hips to pull her closer and kissed her good night.

* * *

"I'm leaving, guys. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Sara," Catherine said, barely looking up from the report she was writing.

"Get some rest!" Nick called as he left to go find Hodges to go retrieve results on some fibers he had given him. "You worked way too hard today!"

"I know," Sara said wearily. Her knees and back ached from the amount of time she had spent kneeling in the victim's flowerbeds.

"You're leaving, Sara?" Grissom asked, keys in hand.

"Yes."

"Me, too. I'll walk out with you."

"Anyone else going to the parking lot?" Sara asked.

Disgruntled groans were her only reply. She smiled.

"I guess it's just us, then."

"Looks like."

* * *

They had barely walked out into the parking lot when Brass entered the lab.

"Has anyone seen Grissom?"

"He just left," Catherine replied. "If you hurry, you might be able to catch him in the parking lot."

"Thanks," Brass said, taking off to find his colleague.

* * *

Grissom walked Sara to her car and waited until she had opened her door. He put his hand on the small of her back as she turned to say good bye.

"Ouch."

His eyes widened. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing … my back is just bothering me. Too much bending over today, I guess."

"How about a massage?" Grissom asked, rubbing his hand in circles over her back.

"Not right now," she said, giving him a smile.

"Can I kiss it and make it better?"

"I'd love it, but I think there are too many clothes on it for the kiss to make it through."

"Well, then, I guess I'll just have to take what I can get." He leaned forward and kissed her lips.

Sara sighed against his lips and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her and deeper into the kiss.

A small cough broke the silence around them and they jumped apart. Jim Brass stood only a few feet away, a goofy grin stretching across his face.

"And to think, I just saw Catherine and didn't hear a word about this," he said.

"That would be because she doesn't know," Grissom said. "Um … Jim, no one …"

"Don't worry," Brass grinned. "Your secret is safe with me."

"Thanks, Jim," Sara smiled.

"Just one thing," he said.

"You're setting conditions?" Sara asked indignantly.

"You'll like this one," he assured her. He turned to Grissom. "Gil, if you hurt this girl, I will personally break your face. Do you understand?"

Grissom smiled and put his arm around Sara's waist, pulling her close to him. "Jim, there is no way I will ever do anything to hurt her."

"Good." Jim turned to walk away and gave them a wave. "Have a good night."

* * *

"Did you find Grissom?" Catherine asked as Brass walked back into the lab.

"Missed him," he said. "All I saw were tail lights."

* * *

Brass kept their secret, denying even Catherine the insider information that he had. Later, in the heat of a frantic search, he could only wish that they had kept it as well as he had. 


	3. Rule 3: No sex

A/N: Thanks as always for reading and reviewing! I hope you enjoy this new rule!

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_Rule 3: No sex_

Six months.

Sara and Grissom had been dating for six months, and, to Sara's chagrin, they had not yet consummated their relationship. They had certainly been close, but Grissom stopped them every time. He told her that he wanted their first time to be special.

Sara wondered what the rules were that defined "special." She didn't know, but she had a feeling that they involved a very elaborate evening. She couldn't find the words to tell him that, although his feelings were incredibly sweet, just being with him was special. She didn't need a night at a fancy hotel or a bed covered in rose petals. She just needed him – and he was holding back from her.

* * *

"Would you like to come over?" Grissom asked quietly as they walked out to their cars together at the end of their shift. "I can make you breakfast."

Sara smiled. "That sounds great. I'll follow you."

"Good." He didn't say anything more, but gave her a smile that promised a lovely morning together.

Sara pulled into his driveway as he was getting out of his car. He stopped to wait for her, and they walked up to the front door together. His key had just turned in the lock when booming barks sounded from within the house.

Sara giggled. "Does he do that every time you come home?"

"Yes," Grissom smiled. He opened the door, and Bruno bounded out to greet him. "Hey, buddy," he said, running his hands over the dog's head. "Look who I brought home today!"

"Hi, Bruno," Sara said, holding out her hand to the dog. Although she had been at Grissom's house many times, she always thought it was best to remind Bruno of who she was.

Bruno sniffed at her hand, then licked it. She scratched his head, and he wagged his tail happily.

"Come on, let's go inside," Grissom said. He grabbed the dog's collar to direct him back into the house.

"Doesn't he need a walk or something?" Sara asked as the dog bounded beside them into the kitchen.

"I'll let him out back," Grissom said, opening the door so Bruno could run out into the fenced part of the yard. "We can take him for a walk later, if you like."

Sara smiled and nodded.

"Now, about breakfast …" Grissom washed his hands, then began opening cupboards and pulling out ingredients.

"How can I help?" Sara asked, washing her own hands.

"Talk to me," Grissom said.

"What?"

He smiled. "Amuse me while I work."

"You don't want help?"

"Not yet."

Sara shrugged and took a seat. They chatted as he worked to make pancakes and eggs. When the food was complete, Sara helped him carry everything to the table. They sat down together, and she promptly drowned her pancakes in syrup.

"What are you doing?" Grissom asked.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him. "Don't you like syrup?"

"Not in those quantities."

"Why not? It's wonderfully sweet and sticky."

He shook his head. "Just a little is all you need."

"Not at all," she said. She trailed her finger through the ocean of syrup that had collected at the edges of the plate. "The more the merrier." She lifted her finger out of the syrup and put it in her mouth.

"Sara …" Grissom muttered, his eyes locked on her finger.

"Yes?"

He leaned across the table to kiss her lips, still sweet from the syrup. Taken by surprise, it was a moment before Sara responded.

"Griss …" she whispered against his lips.

"Hm?"

"Could we take this out of the kitchen?"

"Gladly."

The both stood up, and Grissom grabbed her hand, pulling her up the stairs to his bedroom. Laughing, they fell onto the bed. He rolled on top of her and began kissing her again.

Clothing was beginning to fly off when Grissom pulled back.

"We should stop," he gasped.

"Grissom, _please_," Sara moaned. "_Please_ don't make us stop."

"Sara, I want our first time to be special," he said. "My bedroom isn't special."

"Yes, it is!" she exclaimed. "If you're here and I'm here, it's special. It's special because of the people and the act, Gil, not because of the place or the decorations."

He looked at her in wonder. "You called me Gil."

She frowned. "Okay …"

"You've never done that before."

"Would you rather I not?"

"I don't care what you call me," he said. "I just always assumed that you weren't comfortable enough to call me that."

She smiled and ran her hands down his bare chest. "I'm intimately comfortable with you. I have been for a long time now. That's why I want this for us. I want to make love with you. Why won't you let us do that?"

He grabbed her hands and kissed them, then her lips. "I want to make love with you, too," he whispered against her skin.

They didn't eat their pancakes that morning.

* * *

They never felt the need to officially lay down the rule that they couldn't have sex at work. It was so obvious that it went without saying. They both knew that they had far better places to engage in that act than the Las Vegas crime lab.

* * *

"Sara? Can I see you for a minute?"

"Sure," Sara said in surprise. She got up to follow Grissom, leaving Catherine alone to go over the crime scene photos from their latest homicide.

"In my office," Grissom said, leading her down the hallway.

A bit of fear crept into Sara's veins. He was being far more abrupt than he normally was. Had someone found out about them? Was that someone Ecklie?

He opened the door for her to walk into his office ahead of him, the followed her in, closing and locking the door behind him. Sara looked around, noting that the closed blinds blocked out all the light from the hall.

"Griss, what's going on?"

He crossed the room in two strides and pulled her close to him, pressing his mouth insistently against hers. Sara jumped a bit in his arms, then returned the kiss.

"What the hell was that?" she asked as they broke apart.

"Sara, I haven't seen you in days," he moaned.

"You see me every single day."

"I haven't seen you outside of work."

"We've been busy."

"I know," he said. "I'm not blaming either one of us, I'm just stating the facts. But, you're right – I see you here every day. I watch you walk, laugh, talk, work, and all I can think about is how much I want you." He leaned in and kissed her neck.

Her eyes widened as she realized why he had called her into his office. "Griss …"

"Please, Sara …"

She bit her lip in a moment of indecision, then smiled. "Oh, hell. Why not?"

She reached for him, pulling him closer, kissing him as though she'd never have another chance. Hands, lips, tongues, fingers on zippers and buttons …

Twenty minutes later, Sara walked sedately back into the lay out room. Catherine glanced up at her, then did a double take.

"Where were you?"

"With Grissom," Sara said evenly.

"That's completely untrue," Catherine said. "You've had sex."

Sara's eyes widened. "Catherine! I haven't left this lab!"

"All right," Catherine said slowly, turning back to her photos.

"Don't be so accusatory."

"Sorry." Catherine gasped and closed her eyes, then opened them again. "Sara, please tell me that you did not make Greg's dreams come true."

Sara laughed out loud. "No, Catherine. Nothing like that."

Catherine laughed, too. "Sorry. I had to ask. I really thought that you had … oh, well. What did Grissom want?"

Sara flushed. "Oh … just to give me another assignment."

* * *

As she lay under the twisted wreckage of a Ford Mustang, Sara played back all the happiest memories she could think of in her head over and over again. She found herself inexplicably thinking of those two moments repeatedly: the first time she and Grissom had made love, and the only time they had done so at work. Maybe they had more meaning than the others. Maybe Grissom had gotten his wish … they were special. 


	4. Rule 4: No love

A/N: Thanks again for all your lovely reviews. They make it even more fun to write.

Thanks for reading this story! Enjoy!

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_Rule 4: No love_

Sara knew that Grissom loved her.

He had never once said the words, but she knew. It was there in his every action, in the smallest gesture, in the briefest eye contact.

She also knew that she loved Grissom.

She, like Grissom, had never said the words. Even though she knew that he loved her, she couldn't bring herself to say the words without hearing him say them first. It was too much to ask for her to put herself out there like that without knowing that he would repeat the sentiment back to her.

It became another unspoken rule: _never confess your feelings_.

* * *

Grissom got up off the bed, whistling for the dog to come with him. Sara smiled as they left his bedroom, and reached for the remote to change the channel on the television. The remote was on his bedside table, next to a book. She picked up the book, wondering what he was reading. He had marked his place with an envelope.

She let the book fall open to the marked page, and gasped. The envelope that she had considered a bookmark was addressed to her. Recognizing Grissom's writing, she knew that she could not contain her curiosity. She pulled the letter out of its unsealed home and unfolded it.

Tears filled her eyes as she read. She had always known that he loved her. This letter proved it. It was a page full of his feelings, complete with one of Shakespeare's sonnets to help make his point.

After reading the letter several times, she eased it back into the envelope. She slid off the bed, and made her way to the study.

He was seated at his desk, which faced away from the door. She was so quiet as she entered that he didn't hear her; only the dog at his feet looked up. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him from behind.

"Sara," he murmured.

She pressed her lips into his temple, then lower, closer to his ear. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Grissom turned his head as far as he could, trying to look at her. "What brought that on?"

She smiled and pulled back slightly so that she could see his eyes. "I found the letter you wrote me."

His eyes widened, but he remained silent.

"Why didn't you send it?"

He was silent for a moment, considering how to answer her question. "I suppose because I felt like a coward," he said at last. "Everything that I wrote is true, but I felt like I should be able to say it to you, not send you a letter from across the country."

"I would have been happy to get it."

"I know you would have," he said, reaching up to play with a tendril of hair that had escaped from her ponytail. "But … I wanted to look into your eyes and tell you …"

"Tell me what?" she whispered.

"I love you."

Sara sighed with contentment and leaned in to kiss him. "I love you, too," she said again.

* * *

After that first declaration, it became far easier for Sara and Grissom to profess their love for one another. It was not something that they did every time they spoke, or even every day. They had a deeper understanding of each other's feelings, and a new confidence and security in their relationship.

They were both very careful, though, to make sure they never suggested anything other than friendship and collegiality at work.

"I'm not worried about the team finding out how I feel about you," Grissom told Sara as they lay in bed together. "I'm more worried that it'll get back to Ecklie."

"Yeah, no good can come of that," Sara said. She looked thoughtful. "I'm not so sure about the guys knowing, either."

Grissom looked at her in surprise. "Why not?"

"I don't want them to accuse you of playing favorites."

He smiled and pulled her close. "I believe that _you_ used to accuse me of playing favorites."

She laughed. "Yeah, but that's before I knew that _I_ was your favorite."

He laughed with her. "All right, then. No one knows at work. We've pulled it off so far. I don't see us having a problem now."

"Deal." She leaned up to kiss his lips soundly. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

"Sara? We've got a problem."

Sara looked up from the dead body lying in the living room. "Aside from the fact that a man was killed in his own home?"

"Yeah," Greg said. "It looks like his wife went with him."

"What?" Sara asked, jumping to her feet.

Greg nodded. "There's another body in the kitchen."

"Oh, man. All right. I'll call Grissom and let him know. Can you try to catch David before he puts all his stuff away? He was on his way out to the coroner's van."

"Right."

Greg shot out of the house as Sara opened her phone. He caught up to David just before he reached the van.

"David!" he yelled. "We've got another body for you to check out!"

"Tell me that's a joke."

"Come on, now," Greg said. "Give me a little credit. That's not even funny."

David smiled. "Where am I going?"

"Kitchen. There's a back door around that way that leads straight into the kitchen."

David nodded and made his way around back. Greg followed him toward the house, but entered through the front door, thinking that he'd ask Sara if they could call in someone else to help.

"I know, Griss," she was saying into her phone. "I will. … Yeah, I'll call when we're on our way back to the lab. … I know. … Okay. … I love you. … Bye."

Sara snapped her phone shut and looked up to see Greg standing in front of her, his eyes open wide. Horror crossed her face when she realized what she had said – what he had clearly overheard.

"Um … I … ah …" he stammered. "Can I call someone in to help us?"

"Yeah," Sara said, willing herself not to blush, trying desperately to hold onto her composure. "Grissom said to call Nick. He just wrapped his last case."

"Right. Nick. I'll do that."

Greg practically ran back out of the house, flipping his phone open as he went. It rang for the three longest seconds of his life before Nick answered.

"Stokes."

"Nick, you've got to get over here."

"Whoa, Greggo, slow down," Nick said calmly. "What's going on?"

"Sara loves Grissom!"

"What?" Nick asked.

"Look, our homicide just became a double and Sara called Grissom to tell him. I went outside, so I missed most of the conversation, but when I came back in, she was telling him that she loves him!"

Nick laughed. "They've worked together for years, Greg. Of course, they're friends."

"No, Nick, you don't get it! She _loves_ him!"

"I think you're overreacting."

"That's only because you didn't hear her!"

Nick sighed. "Look, Greg, is this imagined gossip the only reason you called me?"

"No, Grissom wants you to help us at our scene."

"All right. I'm on my way."

"Nick?"

"Yeah?"

"It's not imagined. It's real."

Nick laughed again. "I'll see you in half an hour, Greg."

* * *

As Grissom sat beside Sara in the ambulance that took them out of the desert, away from the wrecked Mustang, back to civilization, he could only say three words over and over again. _I love you_. 


	5. Rule 5: No weddings

A/N: And so ends one of my favorite stories I've ever written. I hope you've enjoyed this story, and I hope this final chapter makes you smile. Thank you so much for taking this journey with me, and for your wonderful reviews. I really do appreciate everything!

I don't own CSI.

* * *

_Rule 5: No weddings_

Only for Mary.

Only for her best friend would Sara stand in front of an altar, wearing a garish pink dress and clutching a fistful of wilting roses.

Sara hated weddings. She had only attended three in her lifetime. The first had been an aunt's wedding when she was five. She had been the flower girl. The idea of walking down the aisle had terrified her so much that she had refused to do it at the last possible second. She did, however, enjoy throwing her flower petals at the newlyweds as they ran out of the church.

The second had been the wedding of a family member of one of her foster parents when she was fifteen. She had hated every minute of it, feeling as though she was completely out of place and under observation. It was as though everyone was waiting for her to snap and show the true violent tendencies that she had inherited from her parents. In reality, all she wanted to do was to go home and read a chapter in her science book.

The third was her college roommate's wedding, in which she was the maid of honor. Sara knew that it was quite an honor to be given this title and to be asked to perform these duties. She was very willing to do it if it made Mary happy. But, that didn't stop her from hating the idea of marriage.

Marriage was an old and tired institution that had no redeeming qualities. She would never enter into it. Thank God Grissom agreed with her.

At least, she thought he did.

* * *

"So, you hate weddings?"

"How long have you been waiting to ask that?" Sara asked, toweling off her hair.

"I would have asked sooner, but you insisted upon jumping into the shower the moment you got here."

"You were half asleep," she said. "You needed the nap as much as I needed the shower."

"You really don't need much sleep, do you?" Grissom asked, watching as she ran a comb through her wet hair.

"Nope."

"So, back to my question …"

Sara sighed and put her comb down, turning to face him. "I don't hate weddings."

"That's not what Nick and Greg said."

"Well, Nick and Greg don't know what they're talking about."

"I don't know … the three of you spent an awful lot of time discussing weddings today."

"As I recall, it was sort of our job. We were trying to remember all the interviews and evidence that we lost from that wedding."

Grissom looked at her evenly. "You're dodging the question."

"Am I?"

He sighed. "Sara, please. Just tell me what your issue is here."

"I guess …" she trailed off and stared into space for a minute. "I guess I don't see the point. I never really saw a loving marriage. My parents certainly didn't give me much to aspire to."

"Rationalizing again."

"You asked a question and I'm answering it!" she exclaimed.

Grissom smiled and touched her cheek. "You oppose the sacrament of marriage?"

She raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't really a Catholic anymore? Are you still supposed to refer to it as a sacrament?"

He shrugged. "Old habits die hard. Answer the question."

"I don't … I don't really oppose marriage," she said slowly. "The idea of it just terrifies me. Other people can do it if it makes them happy, but it's not for me. Even when I was little, I never pictured my perfect wedding or white dress. I've never wanted to get married." She looked him straight in the eye. "There. Now you know."

"Sara …"

She looked at him questioningly.

"If you don't want to get married, I'm fine with that."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "But, you want to marry me?"

"I want to be with you for the rest of my life," he said simply. "If that means I want to marry you, then, yes, I do."

"I … I never knew that you wanted to get married."

He shrugged. "I agree with Nick, I guess. It's a public declaration of love … and, I do love you, Sara."

She smiled slightly. "So, you want us to get married? To stand at the front of a church, surrounded by our friends and family, vowing to love, honor and cherish?"

He looked at her closely. "It's not such a bad thing," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I've just never seen the point."

"The point is demonstrating our love. The point is vowing to stand together forever, no matter what. The point is sharing a life together." He paused and drew a deep breath. "But, if that's not what you want, then that's fine, too. We can be together without being married. We can share a life without a wedding."

"You're willing to do that for me?"

He shrugged. "I want to be with you, Sara. I'll do whatever it takes to have that."

She drew a shaky breath and leaned forward to kiss him. "I love you so much."

"I love you even more."

* * *

"Dr. Grissom?"

Grissom jumped up from his seat in the hospital waiting room. "Yes?"

"She's waking up."

Grissom ran after the nurse into Sara's room. She looked a wreck, with cuts and scrapes over every visible part of her body. Her face was as pale as the sheets beneath it, and dark black and blue circles framed her eyes. Even so, as she smiled up at him, he was sure that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

"Hey," she said softly.

He looked at her with tears slowly filling his eyes. He had nearly lost her.

"Griss?" she whispered.

"Sara," he breathed, sitting down and taking her hand in his.

"You found me," she said. "Thank you."

After all they had been through, after the frantic search, after thinking that he would never see her again, never see that smile light up her face again, never hear her voice again, there was only one thing he could say to her.

"Marry me?"

Those two simple words brought clarity to Sara's world. Suddenly, it all made sense. Everything he had said to her over a year ago about sharing a life, declaring their love, standing together … it was what she wanted with him. And, after all he had done to find her, how could she not want to make a public declaration of their love?

She looked into his teary blue eyes, realizing that he was holding his breath, waiting for her answer. With no small amount of difficulty, she lifted his hand to her lips, gently kissing his fingers.

"Okay."

His tears spilled over as he leaned down to kiss her lips.

_Fin_


End file.
